


Carousel

by Ikari_no_Koe



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M, Spoilers for season four and five
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 19:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ikari_no_Koe/pseuds/Ikari_no_Koe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, she just wants it to stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carousel

**Author's Note:**

> My first The Mentalist fanfic! Wrote this one very fast, after the second episode - Jane/Lisbon Ship Tease has been reaching Red Alert levels. There's some spoilers for the end of season four, and the beginning of season five. Title's inspired on a Lifehouse song called "Sick Cycle Carousel", which I think fits this aspect of Jane/Lisbon to a T. Hope y'all like it!
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own The Mentalist nor am I making any money with it. I wish I was, but I'm not.

Sometimes, she just wants it to stop.

Sometimes she's tired down to her bones and soul of their little game of pretending, one step forward making two steps back. Sometimes she's tired of not looking into his eyes, of putting walls between them, taking her hand away from his in fear of what her quickening pulse might say – as if he doesn't know, as if he can't see it plain as day in ways she can't even imagine.

As if her fear for him and that woman isn't part jealousy and hurt.

Sometimes she knows it's too much; she knows she's giving away things that weren't meant to be given. That it's not healthy to cling like that to a man who has never given any signs of reciprocating her feelings, who lives in the past and waves his dead family like a flag to defend. That it's not healthy to keep watching him go, again and again in that sick carousel of his, fearing/dreading/ _knowing_ this time he won't be back, there's no way he'll be back, feeling half-dead as he leaves and only half-alive when he returns, ready to leave again.

Sometimes she knows it's going to end badly.

But then – then he does one of his things.

Like holding her hand within his trembling ones, or looking seriously into her eyes as he apologizes and means it. Sometimes there's a cup of coffee just the way she likes it waiting for her on her desk, or a particularly vicious triumph on his face as he tears off with words someone who dared cross her. Sometimes, there's a well-aimed praise. Or a "call me Patrick". Or a flirting smile.

Sometimes, there's just a look in his eyes.

And there she is, falling all over again in that sick cycle, and happy for it.

Sometimes, she never wants it to end.

**Author's Note:**

> Love it? Hate it? Let me know!


End file.
